Our fling is just like this cocktail—astonishingly expensive, goes down sweetly, instantly intoxicating, and guaranteed to cause a hangover.
The hour grows late, and my teammates are tipsy. They lean in, chins propped on the table, confessions flowing as freely as the margaritas.
They love talking about sex. I’ve heard all kinds of dishy little details about Sylvie’s antics with Anton and Samantha’s one-night stands.
But talking about sex with Neil would be like cutting myself open and exposing my own beating heart. I couldn’t possibly explain what it feels like when he rolls on top of me and stares into my eyes. Or the way his neck muscles strain when he’s about to come.
I would never gossip about the times his watch beeps when we’re deep into it. Literally. He grabs the glucose drink off the night table, pounds it, and discards the can without even breaking the action.
To me, it’s not just sex. It’s true intimacy. I didn’t even know I was capable of it.
Another thing I didn’t understand—and this is my deepest, darkest secret—is how it feels to be held by him right afterward. We always collapse together, hearts pounding, toes uncurling. Our limbs are a sweaty tangle. The covers are half off the bed. Neil likes to stroke my arms and kiss me absently while he comes down.
It makes me feel safe. And it’s my new favorite thing in the whole world.
Sleeping with him is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life. Because now I know how good it can be.
And that pisses me off. Greatly.
We close down the bar, and then I’m riding the elevator back up to Neil’s apartment, hanging on his arm. It isn’t sexual. I’m kind of tipsy.
“Almost there,” he says with a chuckle.
He’s stone sober, having kept his intake to a couple of light beers and a club soda.
I’ve ruined date night. I hadn’t meant to, but I’d panicked when Neil told me about his uncle’s manipulations. And then I panicked some more when my friends started up with their gossip and their betting pool.
“I’m so grumpy,” I say as Neil leads me into the apartment.
“This too shall pass,” Neil says gently.
“My friends are crazy,” I say after I brush my teeth.
“So are mine,” he agrees, steadying me in case I wobble as I try to put on my sleep shorts.
I’m already sobering up. I’m too wary a person to even get drunk properly.
“I’ve never made so many mistakes in such a short period of time,” I complain as I tuck myself into bed.
“And it will still be okay,” he says, putting a glass of water on the bedside table.
It won’t be okay, though. I don’t believe him, because I’m so confused.
I used to be good on my own, but that’s gone now. Neil makes me want impossible things.
Rolling onto my side, I face away from him. But Neil cuddles up next to me and starts kissing my shoulder.
“You’re not supposed to boink a drunk girl,” I remind him. There’s no need to confess that I’m not actually drunk.
“I’m not boinking her. I’m smooching her neck.”
My phone vibrates with another text on the group chat, and I sigh.
“You need to get that?”
“No. There must be nothing good on TV. My friends have nothing better to do than gossip about us.”
Neil nibbles on my earlobe. “It sucks to be mad at your friends.”
“It does,” I agree. “And I’m mad at you too. As soon as that couch shows up, I’m sleeping on it.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, running his fingers through my hair.
“I’m serious!”
“Yeah, okay.” He sits up. “I can’t stop you, even if I’d like to.”
“But why not?” I sit up, too. “How does this end? We’ve got ourselves into a ridiculous situation. We don’t even make sense together.”
“That’s not true at all.” He waves his arms around. His gorgeous arms. “We make all the sense. But every time I say so, you pick a fight.”
“I do not.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Stop.” I put my head in my hands. “You’re not listening. And I’m not feeling very articulate right now. I blame the tequila.”
“Charli.” He sounds exasperated. “We make the same amount of sense whether we’re drunk or sober. I don’t think they’ve even invented a liquor strong enough for you. You need some kind of top-level truth serum shit to stop lying to both of us.”
“Lying?” I yelp. “I don’t lie!”
“Yeah, you do it every day,” he says, leaning in, meeting me nose to nose. This is what I get for picking a fight in his bed. It’s too easy for him to get in my face. “You lie every time you pretend you don’t like me. Every time you won’t look me in the eye after I say something nice to you. That’s what lying looks like.”
“Not true,” I say, choking a little bit on the words. “We have chemistry. So what? It doesn’t mean any more than that.”
I see something unexpected flash through Neil’s eyes. It’s pain. Then he closes them. “You drive me insane. You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve met in my entire life.”
That’s not even an insult because stubbornness has kept me alive. “True,” I say gruffly. “And it’s nothing you can change.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he snaps. He looks as angry as I feel. Like he might explode.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I holler, as my heart rate doubles. Weirdly, I feel more in control of my life right this minute than I have in weeks. Fighting, at least, is familiar. I’ve done it all my life.
“You’re someone I could love, Charli! But you make it impossible by hiding yourself from me.”
My heart detonates, because that’s a horrible thing to say. I could love you, if you were a little less difficult. It’s the same message I heard from my mother every time she’d drop us off at another relative’s house. You’re too wild, too loud, too young, too old, too needy.
“And you’re a bossy fuck!” I shout. “You think you know what’s good for me! You don’t know a thing.”
Neil sits back, his face red and angry. “Yeah? If I don’t know what’s good for you, it’s only because you won’t share. You never show me the dark stuff.”
“I don’t owe you that! I don’t owe you a damn thing! I played my part, and I spoke my lines, and I even gave you my body, and nothing is enough, is it? That’s how it works in your world. You get more than anyone else, and you just keep wanting more.”
He makes a noise of pure anger, and even that doesn’t shut me up.
“This is your idea. Your mess! You keep changing the rules! If you wanted a girl who’ll do whatever you say, you should have drunk-married someone else. I hear Iris is available.”
Fury tightens his eyes, and his jaw flexes. My oldest reflexes kick in, and I brace myself for violence.
When it comes, it’s not what I expect. Neil leans forward suddenly and takes my mouth in an angry kiss.